


Here, Kitty...

by Sadsnail



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Fluff, May/December Relationship, Pining, Pre-Relationship, Secret Crush, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-15
Updated: 2020-06-15
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:08:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24732859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sadsnail/pseuds/Sadsnail
Summary: Ronald Weasley fell in love with Minerva McGonagall when he was eleven years old... and never fell out again.The McRonagall everyone needed.
Relationships: Minerva McGonagall/Ron Weasley
Comments: 9
Kudos: 27





	Here, Kitty...

The first inkling Ron had that he might be in love with her was when she turned her desk into a pig. Breakfast had been rushed that morning, what with all the excitement about their first classes, and he still had an empty spot left over for bacon. He was eleven years old and he kept this feeling to himself.

Being in love with Professor McGonagall had the distinct disadvantage that he could do nothing right in her class. His pin stayed a matchstick, nevermind the fact that he had transfigured pins out of matchsticks the whole of last summer, leaving them on Percy's chair whenever his brother was being insufferable. No one suspected ten-year-old Ron who had yet to start Hogwarts, and he was fine with the twins being blamed and his mum giving them extra chores, they pranked him often enough that it evened out.

Transfiguration classes never improved after that and Ron turned to secretly studying it on his own, away from Hermione who would have crowed at him studying anything. When he declared his love for Minerva McGonagall it was going to be with a ring he had transfigured from a rose. Like his dad had done for his mum.

When he learned her animagus form was a cat he nearly gave the love up as hopeless; he was nothing if not loyal and Scabbers was his first pet. Not that he thought she was his pet! But what if she was in the mood to turn into a kitty when she was with him and Scabbers passed by… he wouldn’t be able to blame a cat for being peckish. Half-Kneazles do not count. Then Scabbers turned out to be Pettigrew and he realised a cat by his side would prevent him from ever—ever!—having a rat near him again. They were good at catching spiders too.

His love was cemented when she said: “Inside every boy, a lordly lion pranced, Mr. Weasley.” For the first time ever he thought his feelings might be reciprocated. Why else would she liken him to a lion? Calling him the king of cats! Asking him out of all the boys for the dance! Then he was touching her waist and Fred whistled… bringing him back to earth. They were going to tease him mercilessly for the dance already, if they knew he was in love there would be no end to it. He set his jaw and tried to look as if he wanted to be anywhere but there.

He tried to be with girls his own age, Lavender, Hermione… Oh, Merlin, Hermione. One of his best mates turned girlfriend was the worst decision he had ever made in his life, all compounded by his friends encouraging the union; he shuddered to think how close they came to getting married. The breakup was epic but they were finally back to being mates and were both glad of it.

There were days where he looked back on his time in Hogwarts and felt it was just infatuation and laughed at himself. For eight months a year, there were not many adult females in their lives and he doubted he was the only boy fixating on a mother figure. Then he would catch a glimpse of her in Diagon Alley or pass her in the Ministry and his stomach would twist in on itself and he would stutter and blush, confusing the hell out of anyone who was with him at the time.

This feeling never passed and by the time he was a thirty-year-old bachelor, knees quaking because he just passed her in the apothecary and recognised her by her vanilla perfume, he gave up struggling against it.

He was in love with Minerva McGonagall.

He was going to have to do something about it; neither of them was getting any younger and he was a Gryffindor, was he not? He gave up on his shopping to trail after her from one establishment to the next, trying to look as if he belonged while he gathered the courage to engage.

Figuring out what to say took more brainpower than he currently had. He could not move past a simple: “Hello, Professor, fancy meeting you here,” or his second option, “Good afternoon, Professor McGonagall, how nice to meet you, may I call you Minerva since I’ve been in love with you almost forever and sometimes called you Minny in my fantasies?”

He imagined her running off screaming. The image was so vivid that when he nearly walked into her where she had finally stopped to confront him, he thought at first that she was the figment of his imagination instead, the real Minerva having run off into the sunset, and stood blinking stupidly at her.

“Why are you following me, Mr. Weasley? What have I done to get the Aurors interested in my business?” she asked with her signature stern look. There was no way it should look attractive but it did. “Which at the moment is shopping for my lunch.”

“Ah. No…” He plucked his badge off his robe and stuffed it hurriedly into his pocket. “It’s not like that, Professor.” He felt the back of his neck heat up and knew it would soon move on to his ears and directly after that his face, and he would end up looking like a boiled tomato. No one wanted to go out with a boiled tomato, so he rushed to get his invitation out before that could happen: “Wouldyouliketohavelunchwithmeinstead?”

That was it. His tongue was done being helpful, his face started to burn and he could do nothing but watch as she paused and tried to make sense of his words. She had to look up at him by now, he was no more the eleven-year-old boy, getting a pat on the head, told to fix his tie, he had grown up literally and in all the other ways it counted. Time had not excused her either and her black hair finally showed glints of silver, making her look distinguished.

“Would I like to have lunch with you instead?” Minerva McGonagall asked with a small smile and he fell in love with her a little bit more. She could have snapped and demanded he repeat his request, treating him like the bumbling student he had been instead of the nervous adult he had become. Instead, she asked kindly: “To reminisce about the old days, Mr. Weasley?”

He took a deep breath. “To debate the future, Professor.”

***

_Thanks for reading!_


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